


Shopping Trip Down Memory Lane

by wholewheatpopcorn



Series: Cat Witch AU [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:02:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25891021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholewheatpopcorn/pseuds/wholewheatpopcorn
Summary: Muse sees echos of his former witch in Virus. He isn't sure how that makes him feel.
Relationships: Muse | Maximus Taylor & Remy | Reverse Muse, Muse | Maximus Taylor & Virus | Maxwell Vincent Tyler
Series: Cat Witch AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878718
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Shopping Trip Down Memory Lane

**Author's Note:**

> Cat Witch AU: Remy is a witch and Muse is his cat familiar. Muse has the ability to turn human and use magic because he is a magic cat. In this world, most witches attend an academy to learn magic and eventually end up serving the king. Remy and Muse, upon graduation, refuse to serve the king and move to an isolated forest to build their home.
> 
> One day, while experimenting with new portal spells, Remy mysteriously goes missing. Muse is left alone for several years until a young runaway Virus comes knocking on his door.

Muse is dreaming. 

“Muse.”

Muse was dreaming. 

“Muuse.”

Muse wishes he was dreaming. 

“Muse!”

Muse comes to terms with the fact that returning to the blissful embrace of his dreams is no longer possible at this moment. 

“What,” he snaps as he cracks open his eyes to meet a vivid red gaze, “Do you want?” His tail twitches in agitation as the kid before him feigns innocence and bats his lashes. 

“I’m headed out to town.” The kid, Virus, says. Muse’s ear flicks but he says nothing, leveling an unimpressed look that’s returned with a wide cheeky grin. 

....

“You told me to tell you when I was headed out to town.” He elaborates, after a long string of silence. 

Oh, that’s right. Muse did tell him that. Ugh. 

Muse makes a low noise of annoyance as he stands from his cozy spot on the windowsill and stretches. He leaps to the ground, landing on the ground perfectly on four paws. 

“Do you know the way there?” He asks, beckoning Virus to follow him with his tail. 

“Yes.” He doesn’t know what expression Virus is making but the sound of footsteps tells him that Virus is following him anyways. 

“Do you know the way back?”

“Yes.”

Muse launches himself onto the countertop and paws open one of the drawers. Carefully, he removes a dried branch of cowslip blossoms from the drawer and places it into Virus’s confused hands. Ignoring Virus’s inquisitive noise, he turns back to the drawer and fishes out a small blue sack. He drops this into Virus’s hands as well. 

“If you get lost, crush a flower and call my name. I’ll come get you.” Muse deigns to explain, pushing the drawer shut and lifting his head to meet Virus’s gaze. 

Virus’s nose crinkles up but he pockets the branch regardless. “I get lost once and now I’m seen as a klutz with no sense of direction. I would’ve found my way back regardless of if you came for me or not!” He complains, under his breath. 

Muse ignores his comments. “The blue sack should have enough coins for a trip to town. If you have any leftovers you can keep it.” 

Virus’s eyes light up with a subtle type of excitement and he pries open the pouch to take a quick glance over the contents. Muse can almost see the cogs turning in his brain as Virus counts the coins and does math for unknown equations. Silly boy.

“Thanks Muse, I’ll be back later!”

Muse watches him take off. Virus grabs his bag off the coat rack and bustles out the door and Muse is left with an unnameable emotion rising in his chest. His nose crinkles up. 

Muse returns to his window perch to resume his nap. 

* * *

Muse is in a small, square room decorated with a number of trinkets. An unusual place to be, he notes faintly, but not an unfamiliar one. 

There’s a big window in the center of the furthest wall, where the rays of the afternoon ray radiate through the giant glass panes. There’s a bookshelf stacked with various novels and textbooks and decorated with the occasional plant or trinket. There’s a nightstand by his side, with a picture frame and a glass of half drunken water. There’s a number of toys scattered on the ground and a dog bed tucked into the side of the room. 

There’s a desk placed right in front of the giant glass window and seated at the desk is a boy. 

The boy has his back turned to him and seems to be working away at something Muse can’t see from his vantage point. This, however, doesn’t concern Muse. Muse waits, patiently, for a cue he knows implicitly will come. Though, how he does is a mystery to him. 

“Muse.” The boy says finally after a long while. “Come here.” 

Muse considers this request for a moment and deems it worthy of his attention. He hops off what he recognizes now as the bed and walks over to the desk. 

“What do you want?” Muse says, voice heavy with sleep as he hops onto the corner of the desk. The boy looks at him with mismatched eyes and a wry smile. 

“Let me put this collar on you.” The boy requests and Muse turns his gaze down to look at the chain dangling from the boy’s fingers. His nose crinkles up in distaste. 

“I don’t like collars.” Muse says, shoving as much contempt into his voice as he can. The boy just gives him a flat look. 

“You need to wear one so people know you’re a contracted familiar. Otherwise you’ll get poached.”

“Surely,” Muse meows, “That is not an actual thing.”

“Are you willing to take that risk?” 

Muse falls silent then. 

“Fine.” He acquiesces, his tail lashing behind him. He ducks his head obediently and lets the boy hang the chain around his neck. 

“It’s not that bad.” The boy consoles, though the emotion doesn’t quite reach his voice. “I even modified it because you hated the academy issued collar so much.” 

Muse only snorts and steps down from the table, into the boy’s lap. 

The boy is bony and his lap is small and a bit uncomfortable. Muse circles in place before flopping down onto his side. 

But the boy is warm, Muse notes, and he smells like home. 

* * *

When Muse wakes up, the sun is already setting. He wakes up with a feeling in his chest that he can’t quite describe and a lingering memory of warm afternoon sunlight. 

He doesn’t dwell on it for long. He doesn’t dare to. 

“Virus.” He calls out instead, opting to head towards the only light turned on in the house. “Are you home yet?”

“I’m in here.” Comes the reply and Muse pokes his head into the room just in time to witness Virus dump the content of his bags onto his bed. 

“You bought new clothes?” Muse makes his way to the bed just to get a closer look. His eyes narrow a little. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to go clothes shopping?”

“I told you I was going to town, didn’t I?” Virus raises an eyebrow as Muse sniffs at the new articles of clothing his bag produced. 

“Going to town and shopping for clothes are two very different things.” Muse explains patiently, as if he’s talking to a child-- which he might as well be doing. Virus only looks perplexed. “I barely gave you enough to buy proper clothes. If I’d known you were going to go clothes shopping I would’ve gone with you!” He elects to add on. Muse turns away from the offending clothes and scowls at Virus. 

“You can just go next time, I don’t get why it’s such a big deal.” 

“We’re going again tomorrow.” 

“I—“ Virus cuts himself off and slumps his shoulders. A weary and exasperated look settles onto his face. “Ok, ok fine. We’re going tomorrow.”

Muse brings him to the finest clothing boutique in town and walking on two feet rather than four, under a human skin, is always a bit disorienting for Muse but it’s a price worth paying for a trip into town. 

“Feel free to look around and grab whatever you want.” He instructs Virus. He takes quiet delight in the way Virus fails to hide his wonder at being brought to such an expensive store. As Virus disappears into the racks of clothes, Muse takes some time to pick through the selections as well. He has to help Virus dress  _ properly _ , after all. 

(He can almost hear the voice nagging by his head. “Clothing makes up half the person. It’s their protection and how they announce their status to the world. If you’re not properly dressed, you’re not prepared to take on the world.” The voice lectures. Muse doesn’t want to think about it.)

He peruses the racks of clothing the boutique has to offer, letting his intuition and impulses make decisions for him. In the corner of his eye, in the back of his mind, in the peripherals of his consciousness, he cannot shake the image of a boy with red and blue eyes and a tongue too sharp for his own mouth. Before he knows it, Muse accumulates a grand stack of clothing items that all look deceptively familiar (yet don’t carry that soft scent of  _ home _ he expects). His fingers close around another black satin top and he suppresses what looks suspiciously like disappointment when he brings it to his face to sniff. 

Muse finds Virus in the corner of the store, ducking under the curtains of the changing room and almost (completely) impulsively Muse follows him into the small changing room. 

“Uh.” Virus says eloquently. He turns around to face Muse with a floral embroidered shirt in his hands. “Muse, what’re you doing in my changing room?” 

Muse glances over him, then at the pile of clothes stacked on the stool by the mirror and finally down at the clothes in his own arms. 

“I brought you clothes.” Muse’s head is buzzing with emotions and fleeting thoughts that he can’t— doesn’t — want to handle so he just dumps the clothes into Virus’s confused hands and spins on his heels to exit the fitting room. 

Leaning against one of the nearby display counters, Muse takes a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose and take a deep breath in. And exhale. He’s fine. It’s fine. 

Virus is not R—

“Hey Muse, what do you think of this look?”

Muse‘s head jerks up and his eyes squint a little. “Not bad.” He evaluates as he straightens up. “But the shawl is a bit.... much.” 

“Well  _ I _ like the shawl.” 

“You look like a court jester.”

“ _ You _ look like a court jester.” Virus snarks back, sticking his tongue out in defiance as he dramatically sweeps the curtains close behind him. Muse watches him with an amused tilt of his lips and waits to judge the next outfit. 

By the time they leave the store both of their arms are filled with boxes and bags of clothing. Muse regrets not bringing his infinity bag but he figures he can probably levitate the rest of the packages home when he gets tired of carrying them. Besides, there’s still one more shop Muse wants to bring Virus too and he’s a little eager for it. 

“A cloak store?” Is Virus’s lackluster reaction. Virus shifts the bags in his arms and peers into the small shop. “I already bought a few cloaks at the other one.”

“Those weren’t quality cloaks.” Muse sniffs haughtily. The bell jingles as Muse pushes open the door for Virus to pass through. 

“They cost you twenty five gold each.” Virus mutters under his breath, dismayed. “I picked the most expensive ones too.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“That’s what I thought.” Muse sets down his load of packages by the door and gestures for Virus to do the same. The shop owner, who’s already quite familiar with Muse (and his patronage) by now, hustles over to tuck the items away so they can continue shopping unhindered. 

“What do I need five different cloaks for?” Virus complains as Muse drapes another cloak onto his shoulders. 

Muse squints appraisingly and turns his head to address the shop owner, ignoring Virus’s inane complaints. “Bring me another one of these but in a darker maroon color.” The shopkeeper nods their head and bustles away. 

“If you’re planning to stay with me in the forest you’ll need clothing for different occasions.” He explains finally, allowing Virus to pluck off the cloak to try on the next. 

“One for travel, another for warmth. One for traversing the forest, one for stealth and one for the winter.” Muse looks at Virus’s with an unreadable expression that’s matched with Virus’s own inquisitive one. “You’re a small furless human, you’ll need to stay warm and protect yourself from the elements.” 

Virus rolls his eyes but picks out his favorites from the selection Muse has chosen for him. 

They finish their business considerably faster this time around and as the sun sets, they make their way home. 

“Thanks.” Virus says quietly once they reach the doors of their humble cottage home. 

Muse hums in acknowledgement. This isn’t so bad.


End file.
